


Stormy Weather

by zelda_zee



Category: Lost
Genre: Multi, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-27
Updated: 2012-02-27
Packaged: 2017-10-31 19:30:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/347594
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zelda_zee/pseuds/zelda_zee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They race the storm to Sawyer's house.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stormy Weather

**Author's Note:**

> For the prompt: rainstorm.

They drive into Mobile a step ahead of the storm, first big drops of rain spattering the windshield as they bump over the rutted track to Sawyer’s house. By the time they come to a stop the sky is ominously dark and the wind is whipping through the tree branches. Running from the car to the front porch leaves them soaked to the skin.

Claire laughs, sounding a little wild, exhilarated. Her hair is tangled and raindrops cling to her eyelashes. Jack can see her nipples, taut beneath the thin cotton of her t-shirt. He leans down to kiss her as lightning flashes; a glimpse of her face, silver-bright, in the instant before he closes his eyes.

The door opens mid-kiss to the sound of a Lucinda Williams song and the sudden, sweet scent of marijuana.

”Whoa,” Sawyer says. “It’s not often I’m greeted by a sight like this.”

“Hey, Sawyer,” Claire says, grinning up at him, unrepentant. 

“Hey, yourself,” Sawyer says, eyes sweeping her from her bedraggled hair to her sandaled feet, lingering for just a second on her breasts. “You’re a sight for sore eyes, sweetheart.” He curls one big hand around the back of her head and draws her in, bending down to kiss her. It’s a soft kiss, and a short one, but Jack knows it’s a promise of things to come. 

Claire is flushed when Sawyer draws back and she licks her lips, smiling. “I missed you. We both did.”

“Doc,” Sawyer says, and there’s uncertainty there, a question in his eyes as they meet Jack’s, like he expects that this is the time Jack will change his mind and turn his back or say something cutting. 

Jack pulls him into a hug, holds Sawyer tightly, lets it linger until he feels Sawyer relax, his face tucking into the crook of Jack’s shoulder.

“It’s good to be here,” Jack says when Sawyer moves away, stepping back and holding the door open to let them in. “Long drive.”

“Looks like you brought the weather with you.” As if to emphasize the point, there’s another flash of lightning followed by a deafening crack of thunder. Sawyer pushes the door shut against the wind and bolts it.

Inside, the music is louder, the smell of pot stronger. There’s a fire in the fireplace, a pile of books by the sofa, one open face down on the cushions. A reading lamp casts a circle of light in the dim room. Sawyer doesn’t own a TV or a computer. There was a time when Jack would have wondered how anyone could live that way, but since these days he mostly lives out of the trunk of a car his perspective is a little changed.

“That storm chased us all the way across Mississippi,” Jack says, taking a seat on the sofa. It’s old and worn, but surprisingly comfortable.

“Well, it’s caught up with you now.” Sawyer goes to the phonograph and turns the volume down, then pokes at the fire. “Weather report says it’s gonna be a doozy.”

Sawyer sits beside Jack on the couch, even though there are two empty armchairs on the other side of the coffee table. He doesn’t sit close though, leaves plenty of space between them. Claire goes to Sawyer immediately, as if she’d just been waiting for him to sit down, and without a word she climbs onto his lap, curling around him and resting her head on his shoulder. He holds her easily, as if she doesn’t weigh a thing.

There’s another flash and the crash of thunder and abruptly the music stops and the lights go dark.

“Oh,” Claire says, but that’s all. They sit still for a moment in the dark, listening to the rain pound on the roof.

Sawyer looks at over at Jack and smiles. “C’mon then,” he says, and takes ahold of Jack’s wrist, tugging him closer. Jack lets himself be pulled, leans against Sawyer with a sigh, head resting on his shoulder. Claire is watching him, firelight reflected in her eyes. She touches his face like she’s trying to learn his features, though she already knows every inch of him by heart. Sawyer’s hand is in her hair, combing through it. Claire smiles at him and Jack closes his eyes as the tangles unfurl, slipping between Sawyer’s fingers.


End file.
